H 2941
by lythande188
Summary: Alternate Universe where everybody lives. In a country that is ruled by the strong line of Durin and now by Thorin II Oakenshield, hobbits are held in the catacombs of the mountains as slaves. They have no name, no value. Rumors making the rounds about riots and alert the dwarves. Bilbo is brought to Erebor by the nephews of Thorin Oakenshield. Thorin has interest in the hobbit.


Sometime in the first age, broke a bitter war that the dwarves could decide for themselves. They were superior to the Orcs in battle, could face the elves and demonstrated their strength. After the war was won, the dwarves laid down a new hierarchy. They ruled unchallenged over all nations. Hobbits are not suitable because of their peace-loving nature as a warrior and rather weak in body, were demoted to be slaves and had to eke out an existence among the mountains in the catacombs. They were used for menial jobs, such as peeling potatoes or similar. They had henceforth no more names and were distinguished by numbers. Bilbo Baggins who was born in Bad Eng and lived there (for a few hours after his birth) and was a respected hobbit, bore the number H 2941. H stood for hobbit. The number corresponded to an item number. They were not slaves of the new hierarchy with an important level in the sense. They were expendable.

The lowest level were the humans. The humans knew how to defend themselves and were reasonably well in crafting. They planted fields and took care of livestock. They had no right to have a name, but were not so humiliated that they were given numbers. They were named for what they did or worked. Tailor for the slaves or butcher. Thus brought them to the minimum of respect that a living being deserved. They were allowed to live in huts at the foot of the mountains and were under the watchful eyes of the dwarf guards.

The elves were on the level above the humans. Elegant beings that had immense knowledge. They were organizers and teachers. They monitored trade and supplied the dwarves with all that was needed. They were given the privilege to live in their forests and largely live independently.

The highest level were the dwarves. They ruled for centuries over Middle-earth, but long did kings and princes can not remember how it had happened. However, no one questioned. Dwarf Lord in these years was Thorin II Oakenshield. He was the son of Thrain, son of Thror and had entered a troubled legacy. Balin was his closest advisor, an old and wise dwarf, Thorin and his nephews Fili and Kili were supported by him in political affairs. Balin was wise and perhaps the only one who knew about the origin of the hierarchy.

Bilbo Baggins, in the catacombs known only as H 2941, was bucking a heavy wicker basket on his back through narrow passages. H 3021, his real name Bilbo no longer knew had peeled the potatoes, which had brought the farmer. The role of Bilbo was to twenty hours a day brimming wicker baskets, which were as large as himself, and soon also so hard to drag from the camps back to the farmers. He was pale and skinny. Not so, as you knew a healthy hobbit. Among his eyes were thick black rings and he often stumbled. This time, his left leg buckled under him and Bilbo was lucky that the walls of the corridor were so tight that he could hold onto them to avoid falling.

"Hey, 2941! Move it! ", Bilbo heard the sharp voice at the end of the corridor. Bilbo wiped the sweat from his forehead and shouldered the wicker basket. The straps cut into his shoulders and the pain was unbearable. Bilbo gritted his teeth and reached with aching feet, the guard at the fork in the tunnel.

"Look at you to come to the course. You are in default ", the dwarven guard snarled again. Bilbo picked this time to look. This was forbidden and barely a moment later he felt a solid blow to the shin. He screamed in pain, remembered that this was also banned and bit his lower lip. He tried to tighten and moved on. But he knew that he would be punished in the evening. He would not make the day's work in time.

Hours later, H 2941 slumped limply on the floor. The willow basket fell to the ground and peeled potatoes rolling down on the dusty floor. It had been only a few steps to the guard at the traffickers. But Bilbo did not have it done. He had pain in the lungs, each breath whirled dirt in front of his face. Bilbo's vision was blurry, but he could see went up and down two pairs of sturdy legs in front of his head. Shortly afterwards, a heavy boots hit him in the side. Bilbo wanted to groan, but even for that he lacked the strength.

"Is he dead?" Asked one of the dwarf guards.

"Do not know," answered another. Both seemed undecided what to do with Bilbo. They always came back to him, as it would allow him to get up again. Bilbo's breathing began to stutter.

"Another one. We can't report that to the captain. Again a slave." Bilbo was apparently not the first slave that had collapsed. And Bilbo wished at that moment the unconsciousness would finally carry him away.

"We bury him. No one would care for him to be gone. Among the many slaves of a not less striking," said one of the dwarfs. Bilbo's heart stopped beating in that moment.

"Did you throw your brain away?" Snapped the other dwarf angry.

"He has burned a number on the shoulder. The head will record everything and everyone!" So Bilbo's skin was saved. A moment later, Bilbo was grabbed roughly and they dragged him across the floor. In which direction he could not find, blackness clouded his mind and words and snatches of conversation only penetrated fragment adhesion to his ear.

"What is going on here?" A voice demanded to know. Bilbo knew it was not the guards and none of the human traders. He did not know his voice.

"Um ... well ..." the guard began to stammer.

"You should answer when you are asked!" Another unknown voice stated. This voice sounded a little deeper than the first. They were not as cold as the voices of the dwarfs who had been deployed as guards in the catacombs.

"Yes, Prince Fili", the answer came immediately. Bilbo believed that his ears were playing tricks on him. The crown princes were here in the catacombs?

"Well, what about him?" This could only be meant Bilbo. Gladly would he have drawn attention to themselves, but who told him that the two were different? They belonged to the palace.

"Collapsed. I've always said that these tiny creatures are good for nothing! "Bilbo was shaken.

"And what you wanted to do with him?" The Prince was not amused. The guards felt silent again. Bilbo tried to lift his arm. But he managed only done to bend the thumb. And whether the Crown Prince had seen, was unlikely.

"Take him to the quarters of the royal family," pointed one of the crown prince out and Bilbo stopped breathing. With trembling lips formed the words of "Thank you", which remained unseen and unheard. Then his head rolled to the side and it went black.

When Bilbo came to, he was probably in the softest bed that could exist in Middle Earth. The pain in his feet was gone. He could move his shoulders again. Bilbo sat up. His gaze slid over the room.

"You seem to be going well again," said a voice. Bilbo stiffened immediately pulled the blanket tighter around himself and slid back to the head end of the bed. He discovered a dwarf woman with dark hair and gray-blue eyes.

"You need to have no fear," said the woman, and came with slow steps towards Bilbo.

"What is your name?" She said, dipping a cloth in cold water. She approached Bilbo slowly and dabbed his forehead.

"H ... 2941," Bilbo managed to croak. His voice was so thin that the dwarf woman could hardly understand him. Her eyes wandered over Bilbo's appearance.

"This is not a name but a number. My name is Dis. Tell me yours." Bilbo looked at Dis confused. Dis, as they had introduced herself, still smiled at him. She didn't ask more questions and Bilbo was thankful for it. She took care of his wounds, bandaged them again and brought him something to eat. When she left him Bilbo relaxed visibly.

But the calm did not last long. In the evening Bilbo had another visitor. A stout dwarf with broad shoulders in a fur-trimmed coat was entering the room. He had a neatly trimmed beard and piercing blue eyes. His hair was long and pulled some silver strands. Bilbo could see few leather straps and braids in his black mane. Bilbos heart stopped and then started racing. Under the icy eyes of the dwarf he wanted to be back in the catacombs to haul potatoes.

"What's your name," demanded the dwarf to know. Bilbo swallowed, trying to speak but his throat was tight.

"You should know that it's rude not to reply to the king." Bilbo was pale in the same second the stout dwarf mentioned this and knew now that he was personally against the king. Thorin could read in Bilbo's face that he had realized who he was dealing with. And yet the dwarf was missing the haste in which most erupted when he introduced himself. The Hobbit before him was just in panic. And the strangest creature that Thorin had ever seen. A face that had to be a bit rounder in Thorin opinion to look healthy. The eyes of the terrified hobbit were amber colored and his hair had once been golden-brown curls. Thorin felt the need to help the creature before him back to a happy smile.

"I'm ... H ... 2941," the Hobbit finally stammered. Thorin's eyebrow rose doubtfully. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"A slave so!" Thorin began in to move from one side of the room to the other. He did not take his eyes from Bilbo.

"H 2941 ... you surely have a real name?" Thorin's voice was less harsh. Bilbo felt less uncomfortable.

"Where are you from? Where were you born? "Thorin asked. He knew that many of the slaves were born in freedom, but were dragged into the catacombs. It was what probably happened to the hobbit on the bed. Thorin wanted to know.

"Try to remember," the dwarf king urged him and Bilbo turned his gaze back on the blanket. He dug his fingers firmly into the fabric and tried to ignore the staring gaze of the dwarf.

"Green hills and lush meadows ... it's all up to what I remember" Bilbo began to report.

"And ... and ... there were still others ... like me. Bilbo... they called me Bilbo." On Thorin lips twitched a smile. The Bilbo, however, remained hidden. But when he began to remember his name, his heart began to flutter. He looked at his fingers.

"Bilbo Baggins ... my mother called me!" Bilbo looked up and could see how Thorin bowed his head. A few strands of hair falling over his shoulders, then he turned around. He left the room without a word.

Bilbo got that night again two more visitors. This time there were young dwarfs. Apparently they were brothers. They bowed deeply and introduced themselves.

"Fili and Kili. At your service, Master Baggins." Bilbos jaw clenched when he heard their voices. These were the two dwarfs who had saved him from being buried alive. When they saw the dumb Bilbo, they grinned at each other and laughed.

"We're probably not expected," said the dark-haired man named Kili. Bilbo shook his head. He was not sure what to say.

"Our uncle was with you, I suppose?" The blond crown prince sat down on the chair next to Bilbo's bed.

"You can stay here," he said, and studied every lineament of Bilbo.

"Actually, we just wanted to make sure that you are healthy again. But our mother seems to like you."

"But the others?" Bilbo coveted and thought of all the other hobbits that were still trapped in the catacombs.

"We can do nothing for them at the moment," Kili said regretfully. Bilbo shut his mouth and felt tears shoot in his eyes. But he also knew that it was really too much to ask at the moment. That was not on him.

"Do not worry, Bilbo," Fili said, who realized that Bilbo was worried about the others, "Thorin plans long negotiations with the peoples of Middle-earth to lead to put an end to this hierarchy." This sentence makes Bilbos heart fill with hope.

The days passed by. Fili and Kili were frequent visitors beside Dis. And after a few weeks Bilbo was able to leave the bed for the first time. The princes accompanied him on the first walk outside the walls of Erebor. Bilbo could not describe how wonderful it was to feel the grass under his feet. The wind to blew around his face and ruffling his hair. Involuntarily he stretched himself against the warm sun. Fili and Kili exchanged a knowing look. Ori, their script, had been right. Hobbits loved the simple things in life. Nature. And they needed it to survive.

As Bilbo returned that evening to his rooms, he found a stack of specially-made clothes for him. He looked around as if hoping to find those who had placed them on the bed. But no one was there. Even the next day not, as Bilbo found a pen and paper on a small desk that had been placed in his room. On the fourth day after his first walk Bilbo found on his premises a flower. She had a sweet scent and Bilbo recalled the woman he had seen in his dreams. His mother. He looked at the flower for hours and when it was wilted the next day, he put them on a sheet of paper and began to draw itself. He was a half day at the drawing, the shading and details he wanted to reproduce as accurately as possible. On the eighth day after the walk he met Thorin again. The dwarf looked at the Hobbit and stated that he looked healthier. His face was rounder than a month ago. A delicate sheen of deep red plated Bilbo's cheeks. He literally felt naked under the gaze of the dwarf king. It was not hidden to Thorin and he went with energetic steps past Bilbo. The Hobbit stayed behind with the feeling to have done something wrong and Thorin went with the feeling of being rejected.

Fourteen days after Bilbo's first walk he was surprised by his secret visitor. Bilbo returned earlier from his trip to the library and found Thorin back in his rooms. With a book in his hand, which he was about to put on the table. Bilbo could not help a frightened squeak. Thorin turned around, his face carved in stone. Bilbo flushed, trying hard to avoid the icy blue gaze of the dwarf.

"You were that?" Bilbo asked quietly. He hardly dared to speak directly to Thorin. Thorin was weighing his options. Then he turned away from Bilbo's desk, his eyes roamed the sheet of paper on which the flower was drawn.

"It's nothing special," said Thorin.

"Yes," blurted out Bilbo, "Yes. It ... I ... thank you! "Thorin looked at the young hobbit. A slight smile was on Bilbo's lips. Thorin found himself to find the smile enchanting. Thorin approached with slow steps and kept him closely in the eye.

"I have agreed to negotiate with the elves, humans, and a representative of your people. If everything goes the way I want it to, we will change that. "Thorin looked pleased that Bilbo's eyes began to shine.

"Before the first great war nations lived independently and were trading with each other. I wish my grandfather as already ruled that it would change this state of enslavement. No one should be enslaved and no child should be hidden from the sun." Bilbo's heart warmed at these words and he raised his eyes full of hope. He met the eyes of Thorin and his heart began to race. He had always thought of Thorin to be heartless. He had never met him. And now he was faced with a dwarf king who looked after the interests of the other.

"Then I can go back?" Bilbo asked full of hope. And even though it hurt Thorin, he nodded slowly. Bilbo folded his hands across his chest and forced himself to calm. But that was not so easy.

"Home ..." Bilbo murmured, his voice cracking. Thorin looked at him, then turned to go. His expression stoic and neutral as usual

"I wish you all the luck", he said. Thorin opened the door. He had done one step when he felt a small hand dug into his cloak. Thorin stopped. It cost him immense power, not driving around and pushing Bilbo back to his bed

"You should not do that!" Thorin said huskily.

"Do not demand it out. I do not like to share!" Bilbo hesitated, wondering what Thorin could mean. When it became clear to him, he loosened his grip. Only to fixed access.

"And if I want it?" Bilbo asked innocently. Thorin escaped a growl in his throat and he turned around. He grabbed Bilbo by the shoulders and pushed him back into the room. He pushed the door shut with his foot and began to remove his armor and his clothes. Bilbo looked at him with wide eyes. His heart was racing, but there was no fear. Rather, excitement and anticipation. Because as Thorins hungry eyes bored into his, it began to flutter in his stomach.

"You can stop me. But if you will not I will not be able to stop," Thorin offered, but Bilbo bravely shook his head and shortly thereafter Thorin put his lips to Bilbos in a deep and passionate kiss. And Bilbo had no choice but to moan into the kiss. Thorin's hands wandered over Bilbo's neck and his golden curls. His lips kissed his neck, then along the sternum and Thorin pulled impatiently at his clothes.

"Stay with me," growled the dwarf against Bilbo's neck. His beard scratched easily and sent shivers down Bilbo's skin. He grabbed Thorin's hair and pulled him closer. The heat in his body jammed up.

"Stay by my side!" Thorin breathed and Bilbo could feel the dwarf's arousal pressing against his stomach. Although it was a little frightening, Bilbo felt that he wanted nothing else more than Thorin. And so he encouraged Thorin with the only words that the dwarf needed.

"If you'll have me!" And in that moment Thorin slid his hand down to Bilbos pants to shove them down. He found Bilbo aroused and willing. Thorin run his fingers in circles around Bilbos entrance.

"If you will have mey… I will be yours", the Hobbit moaned. Bilbo instinctively knew that the fate would now turn for the better.


End file.
